


Of Angels and Toasters

by SamanthaNovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas doesn't know how to use a toaster, Cas is hungry, Sam is frustrated, flying toast, one swear word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:56:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaNovak/pseuds/SamanthaNovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble inspired by an image of text my friend showed me. Cas wants breakfast, Sam is busy, and Dean is asleep. And Dean has conveniently just shown Cas how to work a toaster...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Angels and Toasters

"Sam, I'm hungry," Castiel whined, poking said hunter in the arm. "It's breakfast time and neither of you have gone out for food. Dean is still sleeping," he added, still whining and adding a pout.

Sam sighed slightly in frustration, rubbing his index finger and thumb into his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. He'd been up all night researching their latest case so his patience for what he'd normally find adorable on the normally reserved angel was wearing thin. "Cas," he snapped, smacking his palm down onto the table. "If you're so hungry, go make something. Dean's shown you how to make toast at least. There's peanut butter in the cupboard; I know you like that," he offered in an attempt to mollify Castiel who had startled at the smack of Sam's hand on the table and his harsh tone.

Without a word, Castiel stood and exited the room toward the kitchen. Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes once more before returning to his work. After a few moments, he heard the rustle of the bread bag and the clunk of the toaster being pressed down. At least Castiel would be fed. With that knowledge, Sam returned to his work.

He'd become so immersed in what he was doing that when a screech filled the bunker laced with the high-pitched frequency hum of Castiel's real voice bleeding through, Sam fell to the floor and his chair clattered to the floor as he scrambled to cover his hears and reach for the gun on the table and tried to run toward it all at the same time. All the noise had awoken Dean who skidded into the room on stockin feet and nearly crashed into the table as he came to a stop.

"What the hell?!" he snarled.

"Actually, I think it's someone from the other direction," Sam muttered as he readied his gun and held it extended in front of him.

The two of them crept toward the kitchen and Sam peered in, gun first, before stalking into the room and scanning around, turning in a circle with his gun aimed outward. Dean kept pressed to his back out of firing range and for protection since he hadn't brought his own weapon. Except nothing looked out of the ordinary. Clean, quiet kitchen, bread bag back in it's place next to the toaster which... Was empty. The bread – now toast – that Castiel had put in the toaster that had just popped up lay on the floor.

And one angel huddled in the corner, blue eyes wide.

"You didn't tell me they flew!" he cried.

Sam's hand slowly lowered to his side as he stared at Castiel in astonishment while Dean fell over, clutching his stomach and laughing hysterically.


End file.
